The Forefather of Spencer: Kor's Origin
by Archangels-Werewolf
Summary: A law student is taken hostage by the Abstergo Corporation, and finds out that his ancient ancestry is not only important, but impossible to comprehend. Rated T for language, and future violence and probable sex scenes.


Ok, so I am going to branch out a bit from the Biker Mice from Mars. I am a massive fan of the Assassin's Creed video games, and I am even more fond of the Dragon Age series, probably Origins more than Dragon Age II. I've had this idea for a while now, but haven't really had much time to produce a story, so I thought I would upload it to get things started.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any part of Dragon Age: Origins or Assassin's Creed, because if I didn't it wouldn't be as good as the said games you play and love. This is only for enjoyment purposes. So please, enjoy.

**The Forefather of Spencer: Kor's Origin.**

A Dragon Age: Origins and Assassin's Creed Crossover.

He awoke in a light filled room. It was sparsely furnished, and it was white. The walls, the ceiling. Everything was white, save for the black security camera in one of the corners.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to see past the brightness. They soon became accustomed to the light, and began to take in where he was. It was similar to a university dorm. A bed. A desk. A chair. A closet. Only this room seemed more to be much more technologically advanced, despite its simplicity.

The young man, Spencer, tried to remember back to his final memories before waking up.

His friend dragging him out to go out on a night on the town, even though the care factor was around zero...

Loud thumping doof-doof music that he had no love for...

Drunk people dancing around, making a fool of themselves...

Puffed-up security guards leering at him...

Then came quite possibly the best moment of his life. Just when he was about to leave and head home, something caught his eye. Rather, someone. She was, put simply, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. Actresses, supermodels, even angels of Heaven had absolutely nothing on her. Long brown hair that had enough shine to make a freshly waxed car look dull. Deep sky blue eyes, flawless olive skin, a red, skin-tight top that showed a tasteful yet tantalizing amount of cleavage, and long legs covered by jeans and a pair of black high-heel leather boots.

She turned and caught Spencer staring and smiled, which caused his stomach to tie itself in a knot. She finished her drink and strode slowly over to him, swaying her hips and attracting the attention of _every_ male in the vicinity. She stopped in front of him and looked at him with sky blue eyes, before holding his head with both hands and softly kissing him with full, red lips. She broke the kiss, and whispered in his ear, "Let's go."

Taking his hand and leading him out of the club, they made their way back out to the carpark. Just when they reached his car, she turned around, pushed him against the door and began to ravish him, her tongue reaching right into his mouth and tickling the inside of his cheeks and the roof of his mouth, all the while pressing her body against his. Whereas before Spencer's stomach went into a knot, this time it was spinning around like a washing machine. He groaned as she kissed him, almost doubling over as if he was on a 5-G rollercoaster.

They were soon in the car and before long she directed him to park in front of a medium-sized brick house in one of the suburbs close to the club, when Spencer accidentally clipped the gutter with his front wheel. The woman chuckled, then she opened the door and got out of the car, sticking her perfectly shaped backside out and giving Spencer a glimpse of her black g-string before turning back to face him.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked with a wink.

By now, Spencer was completely under her spell. The definition of perfection had just picked him randomly in a club and brought him to her place, teasing him in every possible way. What she saw in him he couldn't possibly imagine, but he didn't care. He was about to have the best night of his life.

Within sixty seconds of leaving the car they were both in her bedroom, their bodies entangled and trying to rip each others clothes off. Spencer was so utterly hypnotised by his lover that he had no idea that he was being watched by a half dozen pair of eyes.

She pushed him down on the bed, and he watched as the world's most amazing woman reached behind and began to unclasp her black bra when he felt a small sting in the side of his neck. He made to reach for it, but he found he couldn't move his arm, or any part of his body. He couldn't even breathe. Soon, he was overcome with darkness and passed into a dreamless sleep.

Spencer came back to the present where an elderly man dressed in a lab coat stood just inside the door on his room.

"Who are you?" Spencer asked abruptly.

"My name is Professor Charles Osborne, lead scientist on the Animus project."

Spencer raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

"And you are Spencer Greeves, twenty-two years old, and currently a studying law in the state of Oregon. You work at a restaurant named..."

"Spare me the bullshit. What am I doing here? It doesn't take a law student to know that you're up for a number of charges. Kidnapping, assault..."

"Spare _me_ the bullshit. I know what has happened to you, and I don't care. I had you brought here because I need your help with something."

"Couldn't you have just asked?"

Osborne ignored the comment. "Come with me," he said, as he turned to walk out the room.

Outside the bedroom was a large hall-like area. Its walls, floor and ceiling were painted white. Everything was white, save for the silver frames of several floor to ceiling windows and some black boxes in a corner that looked like power generators.

Taking place in the centre of the hall was something small compared to everything else. Despite its size, it seemed to take command of any object in the room. It looked like a high-tech operating table, with cables and wires everywhere, and a computer terminal immediately adjacent to it. On top of the table, there were some strange looking circles in a straight line that extended halfway down its length.

"Do you guys play cards on this when you haven't got a hostage?" Spencer asked.

Osborne again ignored to remark. "This, Mr Greeves, is the Animus." He turned to Spencer. "Do you ever wonder how things have survived this long? Do you ever wonder why animals mate when they have not been taught how? Do you ever wonder why birds migrate to different areas because of the seasons?"

"I ain't no naturalist," said Spencer.

"They do so because of something called 'genetic memories.' It is a behaviour that is passed on in an animal's DNA down through the generations. It is in these genetic memories that life in the natural world continues."

"So what do these genetic memories have to do with me? I already know about mating."

"Your only knowledge of mating comes from the videos you have on your computer, Mr Greeves," Osborne smiled slyly. "Your file says that you have never had sexual relations with anyone in your life."

"You keep track of my sex life?" Spencer asked incredulously.

"In your case, lack thereof."

Spencer fumed to himself silently.

"To answer your question, the reason these genetic memories affect you is because you have ancestors whose memories we want to access. And this is where the Animus is involved. It allows you to experience the memories in a virtual-reality environment. We can then decode these memories and then find the answers to our questions."

"Uh-huh. I see," Spencer said blankly.

Osborne buzzed on an intercom. "Please send Watson in," he said, before turning back to his subject. "Would you please lay on top of the Animus. I want to start immediately."

"Just what exactly are you wanting to find, old man?" Spencer asked.

Osborne sighed. "Around four millenniums ago, there were an order of people known as the Grey Wardens. Peerless warriors who protected the world from monstrosities known as darkspawn. We have limited information on them, but we know that they took people of all races in order to combat these evil creatures.

"Ok..."

"Mr Greeves, we believe you are a direct descendant of an extinct race of people who once served as Grey Wardens. The race known as the elves," Osborne said with a straight face.

Spencer scoffed, then started laughing loudly. He couldn't quite believe that a high class scientist had just admitted to believing in a fairy tale creature. Soon, his laughter died down, and he looked back at Osborne who still hadn't changed his facial expression.

"What the hell are you guys smoking here?" he asked.

"You don't believe us?" Osborne said.

"You need to get out more."

"Very well then. Get on the Animus, and we will prove to you that it's real."

"There's been a movie made about this, you know? It's called The Lord of the Rings. It's not a bad watch either, you should look into it," Spencer said in reply.

One of the automatic doors made a hissing noise and opened. Spencer glanced over his shoulder, and did a double take as he recognised someone he knew.

Blue eyes.

Long brown hair.

Olive skin.

And one hell of a body, though most of its features were covered by a lab coat.

It was the sultry lady who picked him up at the dance club.

She brazenly walked towards him, her face stoic and unreadable.

"You!" Spencer shouted. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Same as what I was doing last night; my job," she replied in a neutral tone. She took her place in front of the computer terminal.

"I believe you have already met Dr Monica Watson," Osborne remarked.

Spencer scoffed. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Anyway, we have talked enough. Get on the Animus please."

"Screw you, I'm not doing anything. I want outta here!"

Osborne pressed on the intercom again. "Guards."

Immediately, six burly men in blue shirts entered the room and quickly made their way to surround Spencer. There was nowhere to go.

"Mr Greeves, you can either voluntarily help us or we will put you in a chemically induced coma and get our answers that way," said Osborne.

Spencer paused. "By voluntarily, you mean because I don't have another choice?"

"Yes."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said, before swinging himself onto the table. A visor-like screen deployed over his head, and he was soon only seeing white. He made to put his own hand in front of his face, but he couldn't even see that. Then he found it hard to move, as if he was immersed in water or Earth's gravity had increased by a factor of ten. The air was hot and was as thick as pancake batter, and just as he felt like he was going to suffocate, the pressure changed and he felt normal again.

He still could only see white, but he could hear voices. People chatting with each other. Something that sounded like a horse pulling a cart. The clink of metal on someone's shoes as they walked. He rubbed his eyes and could see things coming slowly into focus. It was then that he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He could see a person, only it wasn't a person. Their ears were unnaturally pointy.

It was an elf!

He looked over to his right, and could see three of them talking to each other and laughing. To his left, there were two elven children running around with their mother chasing after them. He slowly brought his hand to his own face, and then ran it past his cheek and to his ear; it too, was pointed

It was so surreal. So lifelike. And yet, everything in his mind screamed that it didn't exist. Couldn't exist.

Suddenly, he felt a heavy impact the back of his head and he was face down in the mud. He heard some cruel laughing of young men behind him in the distance, when another voice came from nearby.

"Cousin, are you ok?"

Spencer looked up to see a teenage elf with dark red hair peering down at him, with genuine concern in his big eyes. He offered Spencer a hand, which was taken and Spencer was again on his feet.

"They hit you pretty hard. What happened?"

Spencer could only breathe heavily and shake his head. He touched the back of his cranium and saw that it was slicked heavily with blood.

"Oh no! We should get you home," the elf said, and began to guide you along the muddy path. After a few steps, Spencer turned to his helper.

"Thanks man, I appreciate it," he said, though his voice sounded quite different. More suave and charismatic.

"It's what family is for, Cousin," he replied.

Spencer took in the word 'family.' This was sort of scary. This guy claimed to be related to him and yet he didn't have a hint as to what this guys name was.

It wasn't long however, when he felt himself becoming heavy and weighted, similar to when he first entered the Animus. His vision began to turn into the white haze and noises became echoed and unrecognisable, before he woke up again in the Animus chamber.

Spencer sat up and was met with a rush of dizziness and a thumping headache. He attempted to stand but his legs wouldn't hold him and he collapsed to the ground. His hands clutched his temples, but the pain was amplified when Osborne started shouting.

"Why the hell did you pull him out?"

"His neurons were going haywire. Any longer and he would have had a seizure!" Monica protested.

"You're too cautious. We need that information as soon as possible."

"He's no good to us dead either!"

Osborne scoffed. "Just get him to his room. I want to start again first thing in the morning."

Spencer heard Monica's high-heel shoes approach him and try to help him, but he wouldn't have any of it.

"I don't want your help," he said gruffly.

Monica sighed. "Just come on."

Spencer pulled his arm free from her grasp. "Get. Lost. Now."

She left him, and Spencer dragged himself to bed. His headache hadn't softened at all, and the dizziness lingered. As he lay there, he began to contemplate splashing some cold water on his face when the door opened. He turned to see Monica walk briskly toward him and placed something wet in his hand.

"Wet washer. See you tomorrow," was all she said, and left.

Spencer paused for a minute, and then shrugged. He took the cloth and began to wipe his face. Even though the cold would usually wake him up, his overloaded brain was shutting down like a crashed computer, and he flaked out there and then.


End file.
